“I know that. And now?”
“In Germany, I believe.”
“That is, you know, and the place too. Write it there.”
“Before I do so, you 'll give me, under your own hand, a formal release from this trumpery charge, whose worst consequence would be my appearing in public to answer it.”
“Nothing of the kind; not a line to that effect. I 'll keep it over you till the whole of the business we are engaged in be completed. Ay, sir, you shall not be exposed to the evil temptation to turn upon me. We have affairs to settle which will require our meeting with this woman, and as we live in an age of telegraphs, you shall not be able to warn her that we are coming; for if you do, I swear to you more solemnly than you swore awhile back to me, that I 'll bring such disgrace upon your head that you 'll walk the streets of this city as wretched an object as I was when I slept in that dog-hole behind the fire-engine.”
“You 'll do nothing with me by your threats, old man.”
“Everything, all I ask, by what my threats can accomplish. Remember, besides, all that we require of you will only serve to shorten a road that we are determined to go. You can only help us so far. The rest lies with ourselves.”
“Her address is Gebhardts-Berg, Bregenz,” said Stocmar, in a low muttering voice.
“Write it, sir; write it there,” said the doctor, pointing to a sheet of paper on the table.
“There, is that enough?” said Stocmar, as he wrote the words, and flung down the pen.